How to Get the Vulcan You Want in Six Easy Steps
by outtabreath
Summary: Cadet Nyota Uhura accidentally buys a self-help book; frivolity follows.
1. An Accidental Purchase

I do not own Star Trek, Uhura, the Oxford Linguistics Invitational or Slusho Mixes (the last two were mentioned in the Alan Dean Foster novel of the latest movie); if I owned Spock I'd be way too busy to write…

This story is completely OOC and nonsensical with some very short chapters. Please just go with it, focusing on the humor and not on the fact that Spock and Uhura are being played by Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.

I made up The Steps and I borrowed Dr. Flenderson from another fandom. Even though I am a psychotherapist, I work with humans and know nothing about winning over Vulcans.

This was written in response to a challenge from RachelKarenGeller. I don't think it turned out quite the way she expected. I'll try to write the one she wanted someday, I promise!

I owe a great debt of gratitude to Ellen Conford's _Seven Days to a Brand New Me_. The book was published in 1982 and is still one of the funniest things I've ever read. While I did not steal directly from it, I was definitely informed by it. Thanks, Ellen. You know why.

Thanks to miss steph. She also knows why.

The smut will return in my next fic.

**~*~How to Get the Vulcan You Want in Six Easy Steps by outtabreath~*~**

~**Part One of Fifteen:** _An Accidental Purchase_~

There were three hundred books on getting the Human male you wanted to want you back; thirty-five on Betazoid males and five on Andorians; there was even one on how to make the Bolian you were in love with, love you, too.

There were none on the subject of Vulcan males.

_Of course there aren't. No one other than me is stupid or crazy or masochistic enough to fall in love with a Vulcan._

_And not just any Vulcan; oh no, I had to choose the one that's my teacher._

The door to my room slid open and my guilty fingers jumped across the computer screen.

"I was going to send out a search party for you," I said testily as my missing roommate shuffled her way into our room.

Unconcerned and oblivious, she stretched sinuously and yawned widely as she threw herself onto her bed. "Nyota, I am _so_ tired."

"I'm not surprised. You haven't been home since yesterday morning."

Gaila smiled, "It was totally worth it."

"Aren't they always?"

"You better believe it. She rolled onto her stomach and smiled at me. "So what've you been doing? Strip 3-D chess, naked Vulcan martial arts, finding out what the Commander is hiding under his uniform and heinous haircut?"

"Studying for the Oxford Linguistics Invitational."

_Also._

Gaila sat up and shook her head pityingly. "You, Cadet Uhura, need a new hobby."

"No, I don't. I love my work."

"But does it love you back?"

"My studies are very fulfilling. The thought that I am preparing for a career that will enable to me support the cause of the Federation and endeavor to bring peace to the galaxy fills me with accomplishment and pride."

"Wow! You sure are laying it on thick today. Fine, you're making me feel guilty. Give me the PADD, I'll help you study."

I glanced down at the PADD, trying to figure out how I was going to switch to a less incriminating screen.

_Damn it!_

The computer was cheerily thanking me for my purchase.

My spasmodic fingers had bought a book

_How to Get the Man You Want in Six Easy Steps _by Dr. Kelly Flenderson_. _

_Fantastic._


	2. Five Things I Shouldn’t Have Done

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Two of Fifteen:** _Five Things I Shouldn't Have Done~_

First, obviously, I shouldn't have bought the book; but that wasn't really my fault. My fingers had bought the book. They had acted on their own and it was too late before the rest of me realized what they had done.

Second, I most definitely shouldn't have let Gaila grab the PADD from me the day my fingers bought the book. I should have ignored her when she smiled at me and started turning the damn PADD over and over in her fingers.

Third, I shouldn't have listened to her when she reminded me that, after the Invitational, he wasn't going to be my tutor anymore. I should have ignored her instead of letting her remind me that, after I got back from Oxford, he and I weren't going to see each other anymore. I definitely should've left the room instead of accepting her offer to help me with what she insultingly called Project Pointy Ears.

Fourth, I shouldn't have read the book: it was old-fashioned and kind of sexist and I wasn't sure it was going to work at all.

_But what if it did?_

Finally, and most importantly, I shouldn't have fallen in love with Spock in the first place.

But that also wasn't my fault. I hadn't seen it coming, I couldn't avoid it, and I couldn't stop it.

_And I don't know that I would have stopped it even if I could have._


	3. Foreword

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Three of Fifteen:** _Foreword~_

_Hey Girl! You're only six steps away from getting the man that you want; the one who you've been watching, thinking about and dreaming of. _

_Read the book all the way through first, then focus on each of the steps. There are synopses at the beginning of each chapter. I've also included concrete examples and suggestions and plenty of space for you to write down notes for yourself._

_Remember that the steps build on each other. You can't abandon the lessons you've learned as you move along; carry them with you!_

_Put thought into this – this is your future after all! You've got to go after what you want; you can't wait for it to come to you. You find that man, make him yours and hang onto him with all your might!_

________________________________________________________________________

Okay, Dr. Flenderson, I'm ready.

I think.


	4. Step One

Thank you for your patience with the short chapters and lack of Spock. I hope this chapter is a bit of a reward.

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

**~Part Four of Fifteen:** _Step One~_

_**Step One:**__ First you need to remind, or _show_, him that you and he are opposite sexes. Men can be oblivious at times. You should dress up, do your hair, wear make-up; maybe buy a new outfit; flirt a little. Show him that you are not like him. Show him that you are A Woman._

______________________________________________________________________

"I'm not doing this," I said for the seventeenth time.

"Yes, you most definitely are," Gaila said, also for the seventeenth time.

_At least she didn't call me a wing-slug this time._

_Or threaten to broadcast her _Uhura loves Spock_ song during the next Starfleet Academy versus Harvard baseball game._

_Or pull my hair. On purpose._

It had been a long afternoon: My idea of getting ready for step one consisted of making sure that my hair was out of my face, that my uniform was clean, and that I smelled good; Gaila's idea of getting me ready for step one included slathering my face with make-up, doing something painful to my hair, and dressing me in the shortest, tightest clothing on my planet. Or hers.

Her idea won.

"The book starts out saying 'hey girl.' What kind of doctor says 'hey girl?' I don't think she's even a real doctor," I pointed out as tears sprang to my eyes. "Ouch!"

"Sorry. Dr. Kelly Flenderson was one of the 21st Century's most renowned and acclaimed psychologists. The woman has sold billions of books; they're classics – the one you bought has been continuously in one form of print or another since 2012. She knows what she's talking about."

"She's dead."

"Yeah, and you're not. I can't deal with you pining over the Commander anymore – it's just wrong. You've got to do _something_. You've got to do _this _or die trying."

"Thanks, Gaila. That instills me with nothing but confidence."

She paused in her attempts to rip every strand of hair from my scalp and circled around so she could lean down and look me squarely in the eyes. "How many times have you and the Commander been alone in the last two years?"

"One hundred and fifteen," I answered immediately.

_Damn it!_

"Yep," she said, returning to her ministrations. "Not even a hesitation. You're doing this."

"Ouch! There _is_ skin attached to the hair. I look ridiculous."

"How do you know? You haven't seen yourself yet."

"I'm wearing enough make-up to be seen from Saturn."

"You are not. You're beautiful. I just played up your features; _defined _them. You look amazing."

"I'm half-naked."

"No, you're not. You're just not wearing a uniform."

"My hair…."

"Is done." She patted my shoulders, "Get up and behold the vision the Commander will be graced with in fifteen short minutes."

_Okay._

I looked. I blinked. I looked again. I did not look strange. I looked…good; myself, just better. I liked my hair all curly and wavy and my eyes were huge and shining. I glanced down. "The dress is cut too low."

"No it's not."

"I'm changing."

Gaila grabbed my shoulders. "No. You are not. You are going to march your butt over to the Commander's office and prove to him that you are a woman and he is a man.

"You're a gorgeous, brilliant, fabulous woman, Nyota Uhura. The Commander is not going to know what hit him."

"I can do this."

"Yes, you can."

I marched to the door with great determination, the fire of Dr. Flenderson entering my soul.

That Vulcan was going down.

_So to speak._

As I marched my way across campus and into the very familiar building I was aware of the comments and the stares. I didn't pay attention. I didn't care if these shallow boys realized that I was female or not; the one person I wanted to notice me was…

Standing outside of his office speaking to a Tellarite cadet.

Spock's head flicked towards me, then back to the Tellarite, then back to me. One of his eyebrows twitched and his nostrils flared infinitesimally. He swiveled his head back to the cadet and finished his comment.

The cadet thanked him and headed towards me; as he passed me, emitted a clicking noise that was the Tellarite version of the wolf whistle.

_Men._

_Man._

Spock had opened the door to his office and was waiting for me.

"Good afternoon, Cadet."

"Commander."

I walked into the office and settled in my customary chair. His chair waited for him on the other side of his desk

He did not immediately sit down, as he usually did; rather he stood with his back to the closed door, his hands clasped behind his body. "You are not in uniform."

_Ten points to you, Commander._

"No, Sir. I have plans after our study session and I won't have time to go home and change. I hope you don't mind."

"This is not an official class; you may wear whatever attire is most comfortable."

"Thank you, Sir." I very deliberately crossed and uncrossed my legs.

He walked briskly around his desk and sat in his chair. "Today you are going to practice click and whistle atmospheric disruptions."

I stretched, making sure to thrust my chest out and raise my arms high over my head; that should get him looking at certain body parts. "I'm ready," I said as I leaned forward, resting my hands in the middle of the desk, playing idly with my PADD.

_I've been ready for two years._

He was watching me; his nostrils did that flaring thing again. "Cadet have you injured your spine?"

"No, Sir, I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"You are sitting strangely."

_Well, he noticed me, Dr. Flenderson, but he thinks I slept wrong._

"Nope, I'm fine," I said, sitting back in my chair. I focused on my PADD and waited for him to start the recordings of atmospheric disruptions that I would need to analyze.

He looked at me a moment longer than he usually did, then said, "Computer begin simulation Spock point eight."

The room was full of a rushing noise; then I heard them, the faint sounds that could indicate alien cultures speaking to one another. As always, I lost myself in the not-quite-noises and not-actual-silence of space. I became the sounds; I barely felt my fingers working on the PADD.

"Cadet?"

I blinked and returned to the small office and to Spock; I had almost forgotten that he was there. I brushed a hank of hair out of my eyes…

_Why is there hair in my eyes? _

Then I remembered.

Spock was looking fixedly at me, his hand extended for my PADD. I handed it over to him and his index finger brushed mine as he retrieved it.

That had never happened before; he had never touched me, accidentally or deliberately.

He dropped his head as he reviewed my work.

"Excellent work, Cadet Uhura," he said after several minutes.

I blinked and dropped my eyes; I'd been staring at his glossy hair, at the points of his ears, at his hands as they moved deftly over the PADD.

He pushed the PADD to the middle of the desk and left it there; I leaned forward to retrieve it.

"You should perform admirably at the competition."

"Because you've been giving me extra help," I pointed out.

"You possess exceptional auditory talents; you only lacked the opportunity to hone them. I have merely provided that opportunity."

He looked up at me and his gaze met and held mine. The room telescoped and the entirety of creation became his eyes; I held my breath.

Then he blinked and turned his head. "I do not wish to keep you from your obligations."

"Obligations?" I questioned.

He began scrolling through screens on a PADD, "Yes Cadet. Do you not have plans you need to attend to?"

_Oh yeah, I'm dressed like a tramp and he thinks I have plans to go be trampy._

"Yes, Sir, thank you." I fumbled to my feet and headed to the door.

"Cadet?"

I turned back towards him. He was gazing at me intently. My stomach tightened. He blinked and said, "Have a pleasant evening."

"Thank you, Commander, you too."

He inclined his head and I left.


	5. Step Two

I, of course, did not write _Greensleeves_; no one knows who did. This version is from metrolyrics.

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Five of Fifteen:** _Step Two~_

_**Step Two:**__ Now that you have his attention, it's time to show him that you are a glorious, multi-faceted creature, alluring, mysterious, complex. Do something unexpected; something he'll never see coming. Knock his socks off!_

____________________________________________________________________________

"Singing?" she demanded. "_Music_? That's the plan?"

I nodded.

"_That's_ what you're going to do to be alluring, mysterious and complex?"

"He knows all my other talents, Gaila," I reminded her.

"He most definitely does not. You have lots and lots of talents he doesn't know about."

_She better not be talking about what I think she's talking about._

"You're talking about sex, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"I'm not going to have sex with him," I said firmly.

"Isn't that kind of the point of all this?"

"I'm not going to have sex with him _today_."

She smiled beatifically, "You gotta start sometime. I think that you ripping his clothes off, pushing him back onto his desk, jumping on top of him and riding him until he screams your name would be _most_ unexpected."

"Gaila, I'm not going to do any of that."

_Even though I've thought about it more times than I can count._

She raised her eyebrows.

"_Today_."

"Think of something better!" she yelled as I left.

Singing was perfect; it would knock his socks off while keeping all other articles of clothing firmly on his firm body.

_Spock on the desk, my fingers learning him, his eager responses as I unleashed my talents…._

_Stop it!_

I stood in front of his office door for several seconds, trying to remain focused on anything but his body; my fingers rang the chime before I had quite mastered it.

_Are the ten of you out to destroy me?_

He admitted me and I took a deep breath.

_Not taking his clothes off, not taking his clothes off…_

He was sitting at his desk, head down over a PADD.

His eyes flickered up at me and held; his gaze took me in head to toe, quickly, clinically.

Gaila had spent thirty minutes doing my hair and it looked fabulous, but it hurt like hell. She had also made me wear shoes with straps that made my feet look incredibly sexy while pinching my feet mercilessly.

"Do you have plans again tonight, Cadet?"

"I do, Sir."

He indicated the chair; it was the same chair I had been sitting in at least once a week for the last nineteen months, three weeks and two days.

I resisted the dueling urges to throw myself into the chair and kick the shoes off and to throw him on the desk and kick the shoes, and everything else, off and, instead, gently lowered myself down, keeping my back arched outward like Gaila had taught me.

His eyebrows pulled together. "Are you sure you did not injure your back, Cadet?"

I sagged in defeat. He just did _not_ get it. "I am very sure, Commander," I sighed.

"You must be in full health during the competition; it will be a very challenging two days."

"I know and I will be. I promise."

_Physically I'll be fine; mentally, however…._

"I have set you several passages to be translated into Vulcan." He pushed a PADD to the center of his desk.

I nodded, my fingers tingling in anticipation. I loved writing Vulcan. I grabbed up the PADD and looked at the work.

I could do this – they were pretty simple phrases. I scooted to the desk and set the PADD on the edge and began to work. After the first sentence I started singing.

"_Alas, my love, you do me wrong,  
To cast me off discourteously.  
For I have loved you well and long,  
Delighting in your company."_

I could feel his eyes on me.

I glanced up. He was staring.

"Your singing voice is tonally pleasing."

"Thank you, Commander. I like to sing."

_I am a woman of great mystery, complexity and allure._

_I am a woman of secret talents._

"I do not recognize the song."

"_Greensleeves_?"

He shook his head slightly.

"It's an English folk song – tradition is that King Henry VIII wrote it for Anne Boleyn, but scholars believe the song actually came later, during the Elizabethan age – the composition is in an Italian style that didn't reach England until after he died."

His eyebrow slid up and my fingers flexed, wanting to trace the swoop of it.

_Stop it. You're all in enough trouble as it is._

"My mother is a Professor of Music at the University of Eastern Africa," I continued. "My parents' house is full of music; I think it just soaked into me." I fiddled with the PADD; I'd never told him about my family. "My sister is First Chair for the London Symphony and my younger brother is an amazing pianist. My brothers, sister and I used to perform at local festivals."

_I am glorious. And multi-faceted._

_Are your socks still on, Commander?_

He cleared his throat, "That is very interesting, Cadet." He glanced at my PADD meaningfully.

_Guess they are._

I started working again, trying not to bite the stylus.

_Maybe I should've tried Gaila's plan._

"You may sing if you wish," he prompted.

I smiled and started singing again.

_Maybe this is working after all._

As I finished the song, he got up from his chair and walked around his desk, passed me and went to the small table behind me. "Do you require water?"

"No, Sir."

I heard him pour a glass for himself.

I started singing a very familiar song, one that never failed to sooth and calm me.

"Is that Swahili?" he asked; he had moved to stand beside me.

"It's a lullaby my grandmother – my father's mother –– sang to me."

He pulled a chair next to mine and sat down in it.

I stared. He had never sat next to me. Not once.

"May I see your work?"

I nodded, handing the PADD to him. He reviewed my writing for almost forty-five seconds before he put the PADD on the desk. "This word," he pointed at the third word I had written, "is incorrect. You added an extra loop."

I started to correct my error when his hand covered mine. "This is a difficult shape," he said, guiding my hand. "It takes a great deal of practice to master."

_Dr. Flenderson, I think his socks have left his body. _

I struggled to keep my focus on the work and not on his hand; his skin was very warm and smooth.

He removed his hand. "Please try again, Cadet."

I concentrated on the complicated, flowing script.

"That is correct," he said, his voice very near my ear.

I turned towards him. He was close, closer than he had ever been. I saw his eyes, wide and deep brown, then his lips, perfect bow shapes, just waiting to be kissed.

I heard my heart beating, I heard his even breathing.

I leaned closer; he stayed very still, his eyes fixed on mine.

_I could kiss him…_

No sooner was the thought born then was the action.

I spent several seconds gently licking and mouthing his lips before I followed the part of them with my tongue. His lips slipped open and I took it as an invitation. He tasted spicy and coppery and completely and utterly delicious. I explored gently, taking my time to learn his mouth – to savor every second of kissing Spock…

Kissing Spock.

I was kissing Spock.

Breathing rapidly I pulled my head back and realized who I was, who he was and what I had just done.

I could see my eyes reflected in his and they were wide, and full of horror. I couldn't tell if it was merely a reflection or if he was sharing in the wave of panic that crashed over me.

I stood up; he was sitting frozen

"I…Commander…I have to go," I stammered.

I fled.


	6. After Step Two

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Six of Fifteen:** _After Step Two~_

"I kissed him," I said again, trying to anchor the statement as a part of my reality; my voice sounded odd in my ears.

"You kissed him!" Gaila squealed as she clapped her hands.

"I kissed him! I kissed Spock. I kissed a teacher."

"Pwah! Spock is barely a teacher. He's what, three years older than us?"

"Four," I said miserably, "And it doesn't matter how old he is, he's the most teacher-y teacher here. I'm surprised that he didn't court-martial me on the spot."

"But he didn't, did he?" she asked, bouncing up and down on her bed. "He let you press your lips to his, let you slip your tongue in…."

"Stop!"

"I bet he liked it."

"He didn't like it; he was in a state of abject shock and horror. Oh God, I'm getting kicked out of Starfleet Academy five days before the Oxford Linguistics Invitational." I toppled over to my side and put my head under my pillow.

"You kissed him!" Gaila squealed again.

_Kill me now._


	7. By the Book

Thanks for all of the reviews! I'll be posting two chapters a day from here on out. I apologize for the fact that the chapters in this story are shorter than my usual work – it just flows better for me that way.

I really like Gaila. I have decided that she survived the Battle of Vulcan by escaping on a shuttle. That thought makes me happy.

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Seven of Fifteen:** _By the Book_~

I refused to attend classes the next day. I canceled my Invitational prep with Spock, sending him a message when I knew he would be teaching; I made Gaila bring me food; I refused to accept any messages.

I cowered.

The morning of the day after The Day After the Kiss, Gaila pulled back my covers, sat on the edge of my bed and said, "I know you're upset but you need to get up and get out of here.

"You _know _you're not getting kicked out or court-martialed, Ny; if any of those things were going to happen they would've by now. You're just being a wing-slug, and you know it.

"You're going to need to see him eventually – you leave for Oxford the day after tomorrow."

I groaned and tried to wrest the covers back from her.

"So you kissed the Commander, neither of you exploded or anything; although, considering how horny you both must be…."

That did it. I sat up and got out of bed. "See, I'm up. We can stop talking about this."

She stood, put her hands on her hips and stared at me, "You better not go back to bed after I leave, either. If I find out you avoided this for a second day, I'm going to rig the _Kobayashi Maru_ simulation to say 'Nyota kissed Spock' every time a Bird of Prey fires."

"You really would, wouldn't you?" I sighed. Her computer skills were the only thing more advanced then her talent in the bedroom.

"Just try me." She left, her red hair crackling with sparks in the dim light.

I got dressed and went to Advanced Warp Technologies. I only thought about kissing Spock twelve times. I only remembered how his finger felt as it brushed mine six times. I only pictured his face seventeen times.

It was a restrained hour.

As I headed out of the lecture hall, Boris came bounding up to me.

"Are you feeling better, Nyota? Are you ready? I'm so excited!"

"I'm ready," I said dully.

"C'mon where's the excitement? The Invitational only comes around every five years. We'll never get to compete in another one! You're our team captain – you need to be encouraging us! This calls for a little enthusiasm, please!"

"Yay," I said, not even bothering to fake it.

"Good morning, Cadet Briggs, Cadet Uhura." A familiar voice washed over me.

_What's he doing here? He doesn't teach in this building. I'm not ready to see him yet! _

I dropped my head and looked at him through lowered lashes; he was as composed, calm, poised, and perfect as usual.

He didn't bother to make eye contact with me, he was looking at Boris.

"Commander!" Boris said, bouncing on his toes, "I am _so_ ready to get to Oxford and _destroy_ MIT and Kyoto! They're the only ones with any hope of beating us and we are going to demolish them. Starfleet is coming back with the trophy! I can't wait!"

Spock blinked slowly, looking at the live wire in human form in front of him as if he was trying to classify him into a new species. "It should be an interesting competition," he said evenly.

"Interesting for us but disastrous for our competitors. Starfleet Academy - WOOOOO! Say it with me," he said, pushing at my arm.

"Wooo," I muttered while he yelled again. I stared at my feet and wished a transporter would pick me up and take me anywhere that wasn't where I was.

"Cadet Briggs, Introduction to Advanced Combat Techniques begins in five minutes," Spock prompted.

"Oh blast! I better get going. If I'm late they'll use me as the punching bag. See ya, Uhura. Commander," he went careening down the hall.

I took a deep breath and looked at Spock, prepared for just about anything. His face was as expressionless as ever, but his head was leaning towards me and he caught my eyes as soon as I raised them. "I trust that you are recovered from your illness."

"I'm feeling much better, thank you."

_Except for the fact that my fingers bought a self-help book, I kissed a teacher, have an incredibly pushy roommate, and am leading a group of somewhat socially inept Cadets in an once-in-a-lifetime competition in two days._

_Oh, and I am miserably in love with you._

"We leave for Oxford the day after tomorrow, Cadet." he said, straightening and moving a half step backwards. "You and the team have put a great deal of effort into your preparation for the competition; I am anticipating an exemplary performance by the Academy."

Hope flared in my chest and I was finally able to look him in the face. Maybe he was going to pretend nothing had happened.

"To the incident during our last preparation session," he continued.

Or maybe he was going to talk about it at 1000 hours in a hallway.

"Yes, Commander," I said

_Here it comes._

I braced myself for impact.

"It is my opinion that that our intensive preparation led to the momentary relaxation of certain boundaries. Do you agree?"

I waited for a moment for him to continue, but it seemed as if he were finished speaking.

"And?" I prompted, blinking rapidly, my heart pounding.

He tilted his head at me, "We need only agree on that fact, Cadet."

"Okay, Commander. I agree."

"Excellent. I believe we have addressed the matter fully; I will see you tomorrow at 1600 hours for our final review session."

_If I don't have a heart attack first, Commander Spock._

"Of course, Commander, 1600 hours."

He looked at me a moment longer, then he began to walk away; as he moved past me I could feel his hand brush gently against mine.


	8. The Lesson before Step Three

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Eight of Fifteen:** _The Lesson before Step Three_~

"Him touching your hand is like most men grabbing your boobs," Gaila said.

"It most certainly is not; besides he didn't touch my hand on purpose," I corrected her. "And _please_ stop saying 'boobs.'"

Gaila and I had analyzed the conversation and debated accidental hand touching versus on purpose hand touching throughout First Contact Protocols and dinner.

He had reestablished boundaries, given me a pass on my inappropriate osculation, and re-focused our relationship on Invitational-related matters, all of which could lead to only two conclusions: The Commander wanted to put all of this behind us and he had _accidentally_ brushed my hand as he had walked away from me. There was no other explanation; no other _sane_ explanation.

Gaila, of course, espoused the alternate, _insane_, explanation: "Of course it was on purpose. He can't keep his hands off of you. Just think about it: You grabbed him, looked deeply into his eyes and said, 'Commander Spock, you will be mine….'"

"You know it didn't happen like that," I said, huffing; she loved to embellish the story.

She ignored me, "Then you kissed him, softly, deeply, exposing his Vulcan libido to a rush of endorphins it's never known and now he wants to throw you down on his desk and ravish you."

"He doesn't want to ravish me, Gaila. He wants his star pupil back so we can win the Oxford."

Gaila rolled her eyes. "He wants to _ravish_ his star pupil."

"Yeah," I scoffed, "He wants to ravish me so much that he's willing to forget about the fact that I kissed him."

"No, he's _overlooking_ it for the time being. He liked the kiss and the Vulcan endorphins and, even now, he's figuring out ways to touch you more. He's plotting and planning and next time he's going to touch you _above_ the elbow."

"He's not going to be touching me anymore, Gaila. This is done, it's over. I'm going to go to Oxford, win and come home. He and I are going to go our separate ways and live long and prosperous lives apart."

The speech sounded good.

Even if it _did _make me want to throw up and cry at the same time.

"Uh, no, you won't be doing any of those things – well, I mean, you'll be doing the first three things, but you can forget about the separate lives thing. Project Pointy Ears is back on," she announced, giving me what I'm sure she thought was an intimidating look.

"Didn't we come up with another name for it?" I questioned.

She shook her head violently.

"It doesn't matter what it's called, I'm not doing this anymore."

"Look, Nyota, six days ago you were pining for him and he was completely oblivious to that fact that you were anything more than a xenolinguistic prodigy. Now, you've kissed him, he's felt you up…"

"He did not feel me up, Gaila."

"He might as well have. Anyway, look at everything you and Dr. Flenderson have accomplished in five days. At this rate you'll be seeing him naked in no time.

"I can't wait to hear what he's got going on under that uniform, the butt, the chest, the legs, the green penis." She smiled lecherously and rubbed her hands in an unwholesome manner.

"Even if I were to find out what's going on under the uniform – which I _will not_ – I would never tell you. And what do you mean by green?"

"Uh, green," she said, indicating her emerald skin.

I shook my head in confusion.

"Nyota, you are not that naïve. He's _Vulcan_."

"Yeah, _Vulcan _– not Orion."

"God, it's like teaching quantum physics to a two-year old. Okay, stay with me here: Aroused man plus green blood plus pale skin equals…"

"A green penis," I said before lapsing into stunned silence while I tried to wrap my mind around that idea.

_Green. _

"Oh yeah. Green. I mean, not _my_ green, but green," she said, wriggling her eyebrows obscenely. "Green is the best. Once you get yourself some green, you won't want any other color."

_Green._

Okay. I could handle it; that is, if I got the chance to handle it - which I wouldn't, because Project Point…_The Project_ was most certainly canceled.

"Incoming message for Uhura, Cadet Nyota."

"Accepted," I said.

Spock's deep, melodious voice filled the room. "Cadet Uhura. I have a personal matter that precludes me from meeting with you in my office tomorrow. Would you be averse to conducting our practice session in my quarters?"

Gaila was making obscene gestures and smiling widely as she bounced up and down on her bed.

I glared and flapped my hands at her.

"I don't mind, Commander." My voice was as calm and professional as it had ever been; he had no idea that I was contemplating strangling my roommate the second he disconnected.

Or that I was thinking about his green penis.

"Thank you. I will see you at 1600 hours tomorrow."

"Yes, Commander."

The connection broke. I glowered at Gaila, "You are so dead."

"Green penis, green penis, green penis!" she began to sing, not at all intimidated. "Once you go green, you'll always be keen! Once you go Spock, you won't want another co…."

I threw my pillow at her.


	9. Step Three

_Beyond Anatares _was written by Wilbur Hatch with lyrics by Gene L. Coon; the excerpted lyrics used in this chapter were taken from the Memory Alpha Wiki article about the song. I do not own the lyrics and I am not profiting from their use.

The Ferengi Rules of Acquisition are also from Memory Alpha.

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Nine of Fifteen:** _Step Three~_

_**Step Three:**__ Now that he's learned something new about you, something that he never expected, he should want to learn more. Wait before sharing more; instead, encourage him to open up about himself. Men love to talk about themselves; let him know you want to listen. Get to know him better. Let the conversation flow. Create the foundation of communication that will allow your relationship to flourish._

___________________________________________________________________________________

_Green penis, green penis, green penis!_

_Damn it, Gaila._

I was standing outside of his quarters, trying to get her stupid song out of my head. She'd been singing it since last night: she had sung it in her sleep and in the shower; she'd hummed the music she'd written for it at breakfast and lunch.

She said it was her best work yet, far better than _The Commander and The Cadet_.

I couldn't get it out of my head.

I squeezed my eyes shut and began to conjugate the Vulcan verb _sahr-tor_. Language always calmed me down, always centered me…. The door slid open.

My eyes popped open to find Spock standing in his doorway, his eyes on my face. "Cadet, it is 1606 hours. You are late."

He turned and walked away from the door; I trailed after him. "I'm sorry, Sir. My roommate needed my help with something."

_Reattaching her head._

"My time is limited," he said, "My father underwent a medical procedure today and my mother is to call and inform me of the outcome. I do not wish to miss her call."

"So that's why we're meeting here."

"Yes." He paused and looked at me properly for the first time since I'd arrived. "You do not have plans tonight?"

Gaila had tried her best, but I had still made it out of our room in uniform. The book-related insanity was over; Project Forget the Kiss and Graduate was my only focus.

"No, I don't Commander. We leave tomorrow, I didn't think going out would be a good idea."

"I agree." He motioned to the couch. "I have set your final review work. Please begin to translate the Ferengi passages while I finish preparing tea."

He disappeared into the kitchen as I headed over to the couch. I plopped down and grabbed up the PADD. I looked over the work; it wouldn't take me long to finish it. He was still in the kitchen. I swiveled my head around, taking in the room. I hadn't been in his quarters for almost six months; nothing had changed; it was as empty and Spartan as it had always been, except for the object sitting on a small table in the far corner.

I felt the lure of it – both as the instrument it was and as something new, something different. My fingers itched to touch it.

"Are you having difficulty with the task?" he asked.

I hadn't heard him come into the room, he walked too quietly.

"Is that a Vulcan lute?" I asked, ignoring his question even as he handed me a cup of tea.

"Yes."

"I've never seen one up close. May I?"

"Cadet Uhura, I have informed you that my time today is limited. Please focus on the task I have set for you."

I looked down at the PADD and read, "Once you have their money, never give it back; keep your ears open; greed is eternal; nothing is more important than your health--except for your money." I met his eyes, "These are the first, seventh, tenth and twenty-third Rules of Acquisition. Do I need to keep going?" I put the PADD down on the table in front of me and leaned back against the arm of the couch.

"You are not taking this seriously."

"On the contrary, Commander, I have studied for eighteen months for this competition. I've taken it_ very_ seriously and I'm more than ready."

I stared at the instrument and murmured, "My mother is a Professor of Music."

"So you informed me."

"It's in my blood, Commander. I see a new instrument and I need to examine it."

He looked down at his cup of tea for a moment, as if he was looking for the answer there; finally, he set the cup on the table in front of the couch and walked over to the low table in the corner. He returned to the couch cradling the instrument; he sat down at the far end, his back pressed against the arm.

I leaned towards him so I could look at the instrument closely: The graceful curves, the polished wood, the fine strings were all gleaming. Spock _cared_ for this. I had never seen this side of him; never dreamed that it existed.

"I've never heard one in person," I said, following the lines of it with my eyes. "I've heard it's extraordinarily beautiful. Can you play something for me?"

I saw his fingers tense against the wood and I looked up at his face. His eyes were more shuttered than usual and anxiety twisted my stomach.

_I just stepped over another line._

I tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts, trying to catch the words I needed to take back my request.

Before I could, he placed the instrument under his arm and leaned his head against the wood reverentially, his eyes slipped closed; his finger struck the first chord and I couldn't hear anything else – not my heart, not my breathing. Just the music he was creating. He played the melody for several seconds before I recognized it.

"_Greensleeves_? I thought you hadn't heard it before."

He opened his eyes, "I had not. I learned it after you sang it in my office."

"You learn quickly," I said, because I didn't know what else to say.

He kept playing, shifting the melody. I recognized the next song, as well.

I begin to sing the words I knew:

_  
I'll be back though it takes forever  
Forever is just a day.  
Forever is just another journey  
Tomorrow a stop along the way_

_And let the years go fading  
Where my heart is  
Where my heart is  
Where my love eternally is waiting  
Somewhere, beyond the stars  
Beyond Antares_

His head was low over the lute, but his eyes were raised towards me. The tune changed again, this time to a song I didn't recognize. It was exquisite, full of power and sadness and hope.

I started to blink furiously, trying to hold back the tears created by the bursts of emotion that washed over me.

He stopped playing in the middle of a chord.

"That was beautiful. What's the name of it?" I stammered, trying to regain control.

"It has no name. I wrote it."

Enormous brown eyes, eyes that swallowed me whole, stared at me; I couldn't remember how to talk, how to blink, how to breathe.

"Why are there tears on your face?" he asked.

"There aren't tears on my face," I lied, trying to surreptitiously wipe away the incriminating moisture; I collided with warm skin instead. His index finger was capturing them.

He held his long finger out and we both stared at the wetness on his fingertip.

"Tears," he said.

I peered into his face, trying to read him.

He shifted closer to me and opened his mouth as if to speak.

"Incoming message from Grayson, Amanda."

He was on his feet in seconds, graceful and sure-footed; I stumbled to gain my footing, banging my shin against the table in the process.

The screen on the opposite wall erupted into the face of a lovely lady with graying hair and bright eyes. She had Spock's nose and eyelashes and lips, or, rightly, he had hers.

She smiled widely when she saw her son, and then her eyes flicked to me. They widened and brightened even more.

"Hello, Mother," Spock said, his voice a tad less formal, a tad more tender.

"Hello, my son, and…." She looked meaningfully at me.

"This is Cadet Uhura. She is the captain of the team I am taking to Oxford tomorrow. We were completing our final review session."

"Hi, Miss, Missus, Doctor, uh, Grayson;" I had no idea what her title was.

"My name is Amanda, Cadet Uhura. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I smiled widely at her; Spock shifted beside me.

My manners returned in a rush, clearing away the last of the haze that had settled over me during his performance. "The same, ma'am; I do need to go though. I know that the Commander wishes to talk to you and I need to pack for England."

I turned to Spock. "I'll see you in the morning. Have a good night." I turned back to the woman with the sparkling eyes, "Nice meeting you, ma'am."

She smiled, "I hope to see you again, Cadet."

_Not touching that one._

I settled for smiling and fleeing towards the door.

"Cadet?"

I turned back towards Spock and the video image of his mother. "Yes, Sir?"

"Have a good night."

"Thank you, Sir."

I walked into the hallway and leaned my back against the door while I tried to regain my bearings. I could hear Spock and his mother, _Amanda_, their voices reverberating as they spoke to one another.

Without a second of planning, without even trying to, I'd just completed step three.


	10. Departure

Thanks for all of the reviews and PM's. This story is a blast to write; I'm happy that people are enjoying reading it!

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

**~Part Ten of Fifteen:** _Departure_~

I was going to have bruises on my arm. I just knew it.

"Ouch, Gaila," I hissed, trying to keep from attracting the attention of the Vulcan standing halfway across the room from us.

I tried to peel her fingers back but she was freakishly strong.

"I'm not letting go until you promise me you're going to do this, Nyota. Project Poin…"

I glared at her, then cut my eyes to the rigid figure that was the subject of our whispered discussion; he seemed oblivious to our conversation.

"_The Project_ is working," she continued, "if his mother hadn't totally coc…"

"Gaila!" I whispered urgently.

"_God,_ you can be such a prude; fine. If his mother hadn't _interrupted _you, he would've kissed you; at _least_. I know it. You know it."

"I don't know that."

Even though I did.

She narrowed her eyes; she knew I was lying. "Nyota Uhura, you can't give up now. You're so close. Dr. Flenderson knows…"

"_Knew_."

"You're annoying today. Fine, she _knew_ her stuff."

"He's going to hear you," I said through clenched teeth.

"No, he's not; this place is packed and he's too busy keeping an eye on the rest of the Idiot Squad."

I glanced over to my team. Boris was doing handstands and trying to start a chant about MIT and Kyoto sucki….

"We are not idiots," I hissed.

I tried for the third time to get loose from her fingers and failed again.

"Some of them are idiots," she said, "talented and brilliant idiots, but idiots all the same.

"Now, focus and say it with me, Ny: Three days in Oxford, three steps down, three to go."

_Damn it._

"Fine Gaila, I'll work on the last three steps, okay? Can I please have my arm back, now? I need it to write with."

"Say it, first."

"Three days in Oxford, three steps down, three to go," I whispered.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She let go of me and smiled. "You are going to be so happy you did this."

I looked at my arm, at the fingerprints appearing there.

_I very much doubt it._

"Cadet, it is time to board." Spock walked past me and Gaila on his way over to Boris, Niobe, Jenka and Et'Bet.

Gaila looked at me, "You promised. Remember that."

I sighed deeply and trailed after Spock. The room was emptying outside to where the shuttle was waiting for us.

"We're going to kick some MIT ass!" Boris said to me as I came into earshot.

Niobe shook her head. "His brother goes to MIT. It's some sibling rivalry thing."

"No, it's a winners and losers thing," Jenka said. "And guess which we are."

Spock cleared his throat, "Cadets, while I appreciate your desire to triumph over our competition, the shuttle is waiting for us. We must actually be present to compete."

He shifted closer to me and I could smell him, feel the heat of his body. I looked at his familiar face. He was only a few years older than us, but he was our coach, chaperone and superior officer.

I glanced at his hand: It was in a tight fist at his side. I wanted to squeeze it and let him know that I understood how difficult all of it could be. His fingers twitched, almost as if he knew what I was thinking.

I glanced up at him. He was looking at me from the corner of his eye. His eyes slid forward instantly.

My heart rate sped up.

He joined the line and we shuffled our way behind him; he handed over our tickets.

The attendant glanced at the handful of plastic, "Commander Spock, Cadet Uhura to the front, the rest of you to the back."

Spock refused to move. "Attendant," his eyes flickered down to her nametag, "Morris, there has been a mistake. I am their chaperone. I am obligated to sit with them, to _chaperone_ them. I require a change in the seating."

"The tickets are the tickets. It's a full flight. Please take your seat," she said, extending her arm into the craft, trying to get him moving.

_That won't work._

"Attendant Morris…"

"_Sir_, I must ask you to move to your seat. We have an itinerary to adhere to." She glanced up at his face, "Don't worry. I'll watch them."

She looked over each member of the Idiot Squad with perhaps the most intimidating expression I'd ever seen. "You _will_ stay out of trouble, won't you? If you don't, I may have to become _unpleasant_."

The team shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting everywhere but her grim face. Even Boris's face fell as he regarded her expression; I'd never seen him so restrained.

Spock looked at the attendant, analyzing her.

"While I appreciate your…."

"Do you want to get to Oxford today, Commander?"

"Yes."

"Then _get on_ the shuttle."

His gaze flicked over each of us.

"I…." he began, trying again.

"_You_ are going to take your seat next to her and_ they_ are going to take their seats at the back and _I_ am going to make sure that we get to Oxford on time."

His posture went even more rigid; I wondered if he was going to do the Vulcan neck pinch I'd read about. Instead, he turned and addressed us, "I will take this opportunity to remind all of you that you are representing Starfleet Academy; your behavior is expected to be nothing less than exemplary."

Attendant Morris clapped slowly, "That was a great speech, Sir, really – very inspiring; now you need to _sit down_."

Spock relented and walked into the shuttle. I filed in after everyone else.

"Good luck, Ny! With everything! Have a great trip!" Gaila's voice cut through the din.

I turned to see her, waving wildly, practically vibrating with excitement.

Then it hit me. She was not only my sex-crazed Orion roommate; she was my sex-crazed, computer genius, master hacker, Orion roommate.

She'd changed the tickets.

_Please. Just kill me now._


	11. The Trip

The Bubblegum line is, of course, from _They Live_. Remember, in my head, Nyota loves 20th Century films.

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Eleven of Fifteen:** _The Trip_~

The shuttle was both large and very crowded; it took us almost five minutes to get to our seats in the second row. I sat down in my seat by the window and looked for Gaila.

"I do not understand why we are seated apart from the other students," Spock mused as he sat down next to me.

_Because I live with a Dr. Flenderson-obsessed Orion determined to make my life miserable._

"I'm sure it was just a mistake, Commander. They'll be fine. Boris is excitable, but he's not stupid. We all want to win and we're not going to do anything that'll get in the way of that."

"I will be conducting periodic checks," he said.

"I wouldn't have expected otherwise," I smirked.

The lights blinked and I could hear the engines starting to power up. I looked out the window. Gaila was still there; she was talking to one of Boris's friends.

She really did have a short attention span.

"My mother wished you luck in the competition," Spock said as the shuttle began its ascent.

"That was nice of her."

"Yes, nice," he said, his lips quirking oddly. "Even though I informed her that you were a well-prepared and highly competent linguist and, therefore, not in need of _luck_, she insisted," he paused, "quite _vehemently_, that she was going to extend the sentiment and that I was to inform you of it."

I smiled. Guess it didn't matter if you were a Vulcan or a Human, your mother could still get you to do exactly what she wanted you to do.

He was looking down at his lap and I examined his profile.

"May I inquire after your father's health?"

_Oh my God, I sounded just like him._

"The procedure was a success and he will be fully recovered by tomorrow."

"That's fast," I said before I could censor myself.

His head snapped up and he looked at me. "It was only a minor procedure and my father is in excellent health. There could have been no other outcome."

My fingers lurched and patted his arm gently before I could stop them; he stared down at my hand until I moved it back to my lap.

"My father had heart surgery four years ago," I said. "It was terrifying and I was there – with him and my family. I can't even think of how it would've been to have to deal with that so far away from home."

"The Vulcan medical community is highly trained and completely competent." He stopped talking and gazed out the window, his eyes focusing on the middle distance.

"Still," I said.

He slid his eyes to mine. "Still," he conceded.

He held my eyes for several seconds before he bent forward and pulled a PADD out of his bag. He began to scroll through several screens featuring Vulcan.

I retrieved my own PADD and started to read _Emma_. I needed something soothing and non-school and non-Dr. Flenderson related.

"Your sister is a member of the London Symphony," he said sometime later.

I blinked, returning from Highbury. "Yes. She's a violinist."

"Does she make her home in London?"

"She and her husband and their daughters live there. It's always strange to hear my nieces speaking with English accents."

"You have visited her;" it wasn't a question.

"Several times," I replied, "I don't like going too long without seeing my family."

"London is a fascinating city," he said, his fingers sliding over the screen of the PADD. I couldn't believe that he was able to carry on a conversation with me and process the data as it sped by. "I will be visiting it again during the school break."

"You aren't going home?"

His fingers slowed, "I prefer to remain on Earth during my breaks. There is much to explore here. I lived on Vulcan for twenty years." His fingers sped up again.

"_And_?" I prompted.

He glanced up at me, "And?" I noticed that his fingers were still moving, the data still speeding by.

_I don't think he's really paying attention to it._

"You lived on Vulcan for twenty years_ and_…?"

"I lived on Vulcan for twenty years; I have lived on Earth for six. I know a great deal about Vulcan; I do not know as much about Earth."

"So you explore Earth on breaks," I said.

His lips quirked, "Yes, I do."

Something about the way he replied, about the way his mouth had quirked, stopped my blood cold.

_What if he didn't go alone?_

There was no indication that he was in a relationship; but then again, there was no indication that he wasn't.

_Oh God._

My stomach twisted painfully and my anxiety spoke, "Do you take other people with you on these explorations?"

"Are you querying whether or not I travel with a companion?" he asked, seeing through me immediately.

My head nodded of its own accord.

His eyes warmed infinitesimally. "I prefer to explore alone. It affords me the opportunity to set my own schedule."

_Thank God._

I left out a sigh of relief; his forehead furrowed slightly.

"Why does my answer elicit a sigh?" he asked.

_Think fast, think fast, think fast._

"I was just thinking about how much fun I have traveling with my family and friends. It must get lonely traveling alone," I said quietly.

"Lonely," he said as if he'd never heard the word before; he was silent a moment, then he stood abruptly. "I must ascertain the state of conditions in the rear of the shuttle."

He left and I stared out the window, my heart speeding.

_What the hell were you thinking, Nyota?_

I had no idea.

He was gone for a long time.

I eventually started reading _Emma_ again, both to numb the worry and to stop myself from dragging him back to his seat so I could apologize for my impertinence.

"Cadet Briggs and Cadet Jenka were engaged in an inflammatory and rapidly escalating electronic mail debate with several members of the MIT team about which team was superior. I had to contact the MIT coach and resolve the issue," Spock said from my elbow. I hadn't even noticed him sit down.

I glanced at the PADD – I was 30 pages further than I had been when he'd left. I didn't remember reading any of them.

"Boris and Jenka are really passionate about the Invitational," I said.

"I have confiscated their PADDS and given them to Attendant Morris to monitor. I believe she will prevent further unpleasantness."

I leaned towards him, he leaned away. I bit my lip and straightened, then whispered, "She kind of scares me."

"She is a most severe woman."

"Do you think she's part Klingon?"

"While the statistical likelihood of that being true is quite low, I would prefer to see independent verification prior to my completely eliminating the theory."

Relief washed over me. He was making a joke – a weird, Vulcan joke, but a joke.

"I wanted to…." I began.

His PADD was back on his lap, his fingers working again. He interrupted me, "I have calculated the odds of the Academy's team winning the competition."

_Okay. We'll play it this way._

"And what did you conclude?" I asked.

"The probability is very high."

"I'd agree."

"Did you also calculate the probabilities?" he asked.

"Nope, it's just that I'm in the mood to kick a little MIT ass."

His fingers faltered and he glanced at me, "That is a noble, albeit colorful, sentiment, Cadet."

I grinned playfully, "They're going down in flames, they're going to be destroyed, they won't know what hit them. And there's always my personal favorite, 'I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass...and I'm all out of bubblegum.'"

"_Bubblegum_, Cadet?" he asked as the lights blinked and we began our descent.

"Bubblegum," I confirmed as I craned my head to watch as Oxford rushed up to greet us.


	12. Step Four

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Twelve of Fifteen:** _Step Four_~

_**Step Four:**__ Now that you know each other a little better, it's time to share a new experience together. Shake things up. Ask him out to a new place; encourage him to try a new experience. The time for old routines is over. It's a brand-new day! _

____________________________________________________________________________

"Make sure you lean forward a lot," Gaila said.

"I'm not doing that, I'll look ridiculous," I replied. "The make-up looks wrong. I can't do this like you can."

"Ny, it looks fine – you're just not used to it. And he won't be thinking you look ridiculous, he'll be thinking of how to get you out of that dress."

"No, he'll be trying to figure out how I left my hotel room without realizing that I was practically naked," I corrected, looking at myself in the mirror. The dress was still too short, too tight and too low.

"Stop talking yourself out of this," she demanded. "You look amazing. The Commander isn't going to know what to do with you." She wiggled her eyebrows, "Make sure to show him, okay?"

I sighed.

"You promised, Nyota – and you never break promises. Fluff your hair a little."

I fluffed my hair.

"That's much better," she proclaimed. "I can't believe you haven't gotten past step four, even after two days in Oxford."

"Uh, two days that consisted of a flight and a very challenging competition."

"A competition you won easily, of course; you could've been focusing on winning over the Commander."

"The Invitational wasn't easy," I corrected, looking at the mirror again. "I'm changing."

"No, you are not, Nyota. He's going with you to a bar – he deserves a reward."

"He's going to a bar to chaperone his students," I pointed out.

"Put on lipstick," she suggested. "And where are those students currently?"

"Already at the bar," I conceded, applying lipstick as directed.

"And yet he's going to pick you up. Do you know what that is?"

I blotted and turned to her. "Why don't you tell me?"

"It's _fascinating_," she said, raising a single auburn eyebrow in perfect parody.

I rolled my eyes and tugged at the neckline of the dress, the hem rose. I tugged at the hem, and the neckline went down. "Gaila," I whined. "I can't do this."

"Oh yes you can," she said. "Have a drink or two and show that man some new experiences. Knock his pants off, Nyota."

"The expression is knock his socks off."

"I know," she said, grinning licentiously.

The door chimed.

"OOOO! Hot Commander!" she cheered, starting to bounce up and down.

"Shhh! Vulcan hearing," I hissed.

"Do something I would do," she chirped.

_The mind boggles._

"I'll call you later," I whispered, ending the call. I looked in the mirror one more time.

_Practically naked._

It was too late to change.

I opened the door to one point eight meters of Vulcan gorgeousness. He was dressed in a white shirt and brown pants; I realized that I'd never seen him out of uniform before.

It was a good look for him.

His eyes dropped to my toes – encased in deep red, high-heeled shoes borrowed from Gaila – and roamed up my bare legs, over the miniscule black piece of fabric masquerading as a dress (also borrowed from Gaila), up to my face and its halo of fluffed and curly hair.

He looked a little stunned around the eyes; he blinked rapidly, then his eyes snapped back into their usual flatness. "You are ready?"

"Yep," I said, walking into the hallway. "How about you?"

"It is 2200 hours, the time we agreed to meet, is it not?"

"I'll take that to mean you are ready," I said, heading down the hallway. He easily matched my stride.

"Do you wish me to respond?"

I smiled up at him as we entered the lift. "No, not really. So, tell me, how many bars have you been to in your life?"

"This will be my first visit to such an establishment."

"Are you serious?" I looked at him in open astonishment.

"Almost exclusively, Cadet."

I shook my head. "Boy, are you in for a treat."

The lift bounced on the ground floor and we strode out into the lobby.

"Explain, please."

"You're going to be in a confined area with a bunch of drunk college kids from all over the galaxy celebrating the end of a huge academic event."

"And this is how the students from Starfleet chose to celebrate the success of their preparation for the Oxford Linguistics Invitational? It is illogical."

I hurried to pass him so I could spin around and walk backwards and talk to him. "No, Commander. It's college. College kids need to socialize, dissipate tension and stress, and have _fun_." I stopped abruptly. He almost walked into me before taking several steps backwards. I looked up into his face, dropped my voice an octave lower than usual and asked, "What do you do to meet those needs?"

Dr. Flenderson and Gaila would be so proud of me.

He blinked slowly. It took him almost ten seconds to respond. "Meditation."

Well, then.

"Meditation is _fun_?" I questioned.

"It serves many purposes," he replied.

He was being more difficult than usual.

I spun around and covered the last few steps to the door of the bar, "Well, Commander, this is going to be the exact opposite of meditation."

The bar was crowded and full of drunk college students, just like I had promised.

"They're here!" Et'Bet shouted the second she saw us. Glasses were thrust into our hands as we were carried forward to a small group of people, only some of whom I recognized. It looked like the Idiot Squad had collected a few more Idiots.

I took a sip of my drink experimentally. Slusho Mix. Jenka knew what he was doing. I looked over at Spock. He was surreptitiously sniffing his glass of clear liquid; as he did not immediately abandon it I guessed Jenka had gotten him water.

Smart man.

"We came, we saw, we destroyed them! We left them in the _dust_! Kyoto and MIT never had a chance! To Commander Spock – the greatest linguistics coach in the universe!" Boris hiked his drink high in the air.

"Hear, hear!" we shouted.

Spock, standing very still next to me, merely inclined his head.

I gave him a dunning look and he raised his glass of water; it was very clear that he thought we were all insane.

I smiled encouragingly at him and took a deep drink of my Slusho Mix.

The alcohol hit my system and I felt all of the tension of the last two days, of the last _eight_ days, of the last eighteen months, of the last two years and seven months seep away.

_Alcohol is a very good thing._

"And to our captain, Nyota Uhura, holder of the highest gold rating in two decades!" Et'Bet said, her usually thin voice loud and strong.

"Hear, hear!" my teammates shouted.

Spock raised his glass in the air all on his own, then took a sip.

"To Starfleet!" Boris did love making toasts.

"To Starfleet!" we all drank; even the non-Starfleeters, even Spock.

I took another drink and regarded Spock. He was staring at the crowd, his eyes more narrow, his lips more pursed than usual.

"New experiences are good for the soul."

"I am aware of that, Cadet; I do not know if I would categorize this as such, however. It is very loud and crowded."

I sighed and took a sip of my drink. "Humans do like to congregate."

Niobe, with Et'Bet right behind her, appeared in front of us. "We're dancing, Uhura. Come on!"

I glanced at Spock; he was looking fixedly at them.

I shook my head. "I'm just going to stay here."

"Suit yourself," Niobe said, plowing her way into the crowd.

"You do not wish to dance?" he asked; his attention was back on the crowd.

"Nope, I'm having too much fun trying to figure out when your head is going to explode." I finished my drink and ordered another one.

One of his eyebrows did its very sexy lifting motion; my fingers did their instinctive twitching motion.

"Do I amuse you, Cadet?" his tone was inquisitive.

"Sometimes you really, really do, Commander," I said.

He directed his gaze at me; his eyes were glittering.

I swallowed hard and stared at him; he stared back. I took a half-step towards him and stepped on Jenka's foot.

'Sorry," I mumbled. Spock's gaze was back on the crowd. The moment – whatever the hell it had been – was gone.

"It's okay," Jenka sighed. He was staring at the dance floor.

The bartender delivered my drink and I drank it pensively, watching Jenka with great sympathy.

God, we really do make this hard on ourselves.

"Go," I said to him, "She'll dance with you if you ask."

He turned to me. "Do you think so, Nyota?"

"I know so," I said.

His eyes drifted to the dance floor for a moment, then he finished off the last of his drink and straightened his shirt.

I nodded encouragingly and he walked over to the women. He leaned towards Et'Bet and whispered into her ear. She smiled and nodded.

_Guess Dr. Flenderson isn't the only relationship genius around._

I finished my drink and jumped when I heard a throat clear near my shoulder.

Spock was still standing next to me; I'd forgotten that. "You encouraged him to ask her to dance."

"He's liked her for months – he just needed a little prodding."

"And that is what it takes, a little prodding?"

"Sometimes."

And sometimes it takes a pushy Orion and a two hundred and fifty year old book.

He tipped his head to the side. "Most fascinating."

"It really is," I agreed, nodding slowly and raising my glass to my lips. I stared at him staring at the dance floor. "You could dance with me," I said.

His shoulders tensed and he stared me down. "I do not dance, Cadet."

"I could teach you." I stepped closer to him, completely invading his personal space; he stayed still. "All you have to do is put your arms around me and sway to the music. It could be _fun_; much, much more fun than meditation."

"I do not think that would be a good idea, Cadet Uhura."

"Well, I think it's an excellent idea, Commander Spock." I set my drink down and grabbed one of his hands in mine; his eyes became hard and glittery. "I can teach you for once," I said, making sure to keep my voice low and breathy just like Gaila and I had practiced. "I can be a very good teacher, Commander, just give me a chance."

"Commander, I need your help in upholding the honor of the Academy." Boris had appeared beside Spock; he was flanked by several men I recognized as having represented Oxford in the Invitational. Spock wrested his hand from mine.

_Boris Briggs you are a _dead _man! D-e-some letter-d. Dead!_

"These _chaps_ say we can't beat 'em at darts and I say they have _sehlat_ dung for brains," Boris continued, oblivious to the fact that he had a very short time to live. He leaned closer to Spock, "Sir, I can't find Jenka and I really need your help!"

"I would be willing to learn the game for the honor of Starfleet," Spock said.

I'd discomfited Spock.

I was very proud of myself.

Boris began trash-talking the burly men that towered over him; Spock turned to me. "I trust you will not mind if I participate in this game," he said, almost daring me to tell him to stay.

I waved my drink at him. "Not at all, Commander. Have fun."

_You have to come back to me eventually._

"Starfleet!" Boris shouted, raising his hands in the air as they moved towards the dart boards.

"Starfleet!" I shouted back.

I ordered another drink and watched Spock play darts. It was a breathtaking sight. He quickly mastered the game – his stance was perfect, his aim was unerringly accurate, and his butt muscles flexed provocatively with each throw.

I started to think about how those muscles would feel under my hands as they powered the powerful thrusts of his….

"I do not understand the challenge of this game," Spock said, returning to my side. "One need only apply the principles of bio-mechanics and manipulate the angles and velocities in order to hit the target at the center."

"Make a bull's-eye," I clarified, my words feeling very thick in my mouth. "And most people are not sober when they play." I waved my drink at him. "I think you should replicate the most common dart-playing circumstances."

Spock took a deep breath, "I do not drink alcohol."

"You could start. New experiences are _fascinating_. Your night has been full of 'em – I say add this to your list."

"Cadet, I fail to…."

He never finished what he was going to say; Jenka arrived to drop another Slusho Mix by my elbow and a kiss on my cheek.

"Victory is mine!" he shouted, hoisting his drink.

"Yes!" I shouted. "Victory is yours!"

He kissed my other cheek and whispered, "You're a genius."

_Sometimes._

He wove his way back into the crowd, back to Et'Bet.

I pushed the drink in front of the man still standing beside me. "Now, Commander Spock, what about some more new experiences?"

He pushed the drink away and sat down on the stool beside me; his eyes were hard and critical.

I lifted my chin defiantly, I was feeling very light and happy; he was not going to ruin my good mood. I pulled the drink Jenka had bought for me, the drink Spock ignored, towards me.

"Nyota, how many alcoholic drinks have you had?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes, held up three fingers and proceeded to drink number four.


	13. Step Five

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Thirteen of Fifteen:** _Step Five_~

_**Step Five:**_ _Tell him how you feel, how you really feel. You've laid the groundwork and, if he's still there, it's because he wants to be. It's time to woman up and go for broke. Good luck! You can do it!_

________________________________________________________________________________

He was glowing and had three faces, I reached out for one of them; my fingers collided with nothing and I started to tip forward.

He caught my shoulders firmly and pushed me back onto the stool.

I tried to lift my hands to cover his, but they were gone.

He was standing in front of me, arms and hands at his side, "Cadet, you are in an advanced state of intoxication. It will be in your best interest if I escort you to your hotel room."

I nodded very slowly, agreeing with him. I was very, very sleepy all of a sudden.

"I will inform the others that we are leaving."

I put my head on the bar and watched him approach Niobe; she was slow-dancing with one of the guys from MIT. My Commander said something to her and she nodded.

He started walking back to me, I got off the stool and the floor suddenly decided to jump up at me. I could feel strong, hot hands against the bare skin of my arms; the floor abandoned its attempted sneak attack.

"So hot," I whimpered.

His lips narrowed and he let go of me. "Are you able to walk, Cadet?"

"Aye, aye, Commander Spock, Sir - _you _are Sir Commander Spock and I am da Lady Cadet Uhuru…Uhure…Uhur_a_ and I can walk." I walked away from him just to prove that I could. The walls and people didn't stay still, but I was able to get to the front door without bumping into any of them. The door was small and narrow and getting through it took a lot of concentration.

Outside, the cool air slammed into me. "Whoa," I said.

"Cadet Uhura."

"Present. I am the Cadet named Uh…Uhh…that name. I'm here!"

He sighed and took my elbow in his palm and pushed me along. I saw a big white building. "Hotel!" I said, very excited that I knew what it was.

"Yes, that is our hotel," he said.

We walked in the front door and the lights attacked my eyes with sharp pointy pain. "Arrggh!" I yelled, covering my eyes. "Too many lights."

His fingers tightened on my elbow and he walked me towards the lift.

Inside he let go of me and pushed some buttons with his fingers. "I will need your key, Cadet."

I fumbled in the pocket of my Gaila's very little, tiny dress and found a piece of plastic. Triumphantly, I handed it to him. "Now you don't have to be mad at me. I found my key."

He leaned forward and took the key from me. I stared at him. "You have very brown eyes," I announced. "They are very nice eyes."

His eyebrows drew together.

The lift stopped. I almost fell over because it stopped really hard.

The wall stopped me from tipping over. It was a very nice wall. I closed my eyes and decided to sleep against the nice, comfy wall.

"Nyota," he said.

I opened my eyes. He practically never, ever called me Nyota and he had called me Nyota twice tonight. I thought about telling him that, but decided not to. Dr. Flend…Dr. Frem…_she _wouldn't approve. I had to tell him how _I_ felt before I told him how _he_ felt.

I walked out of the lift first and stopped. My room number started with…a number.

My hot Vulcan Commander walked past me. I decided to follow him. I knew he knew where he was going. I walked very carefully. One foot, then another foot, then another foot, then I bumped into a very stiff back.

"I knew my room was," I peered at the door, "number 456145614…."

"Your room number is 4561, Cadet," he said, interrupting my reading.

I heard a whirring noise and then the door opened. I walked in and heard the door close behind me.

"Lights."

My voice sounded like Spock's; weird.

I saw my bed and I laid down on it. The room started to spin around me; it hadn't done that before.

More weird.

"Cadet."

I sat up and the room starting rocking from side to side.

Spock was standing by the bed, looking down at me. "Do you require my assistance?"

I thought about that for a moment.

He said, "Uhura?"

I held up my hand. "I'm trying to think. What time is it?"

"It is 0211 hours, local standard time," he replied promptly.

"I need to go to bed," I said. I rolled off the bed and stood up, which was much harder than it had sounded when I'd thought of it, and started to try to take my clothes off; it was too hot in here and I was too hot and wearing too many tight clothes that Gaila had given me.

"Cadet, please do not do that."

"Don't panic," I said, "I'm just hot."

"I do not panic," he said.

"It sounded like you were panicking," I said, spinning around in a circle trying to figure out where my back had gone.

He put his hands on my shoulders and I stumbled a step towards him. He didn't move backwards, he didn't drop his hands.

I stared hard at him: He did not look like a man overcome by the irresistibility of the woman in the room with him; his socks were most firmly on his body.

I needed to take care of that. I needed to knock his pants off.

Like Gaila said.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, peering up at him.

"What do you wish to ask me?"

I blinked and he went a little blurry. "I have four points to make right now."

"That is not a question," he pointed out, finally dropping his hands from my shoulders.

I put my finger on his lips, "Please be quiet for a second; I have a question and four points to make."

I removed my finger and held it up, "Question first. Do you know how many times you've called me Nyota? In the whole, whole time we've known each other – the two years and months and days and hours and minutes and seconds since I met you. Do you know? Do you?"

"Seven," he said.

"Seven. Only seven times out of all those years and days and things. We have been together a lot and you only said my name seven times because you were my teacher. But you know what, you _aren't_ my teacher anymore. That is a point. The first point." My finger was still up.

I added another finger, "B, you are a man and I am a woman and that's a lot of things and it all means one thing, which is my last point, you and I and are a man and a woman and not a teacher and a student and that means a thing – do you know what that thing is, Commander? Do you know what _that_ means?"

He took a breath like he was going to say something.

I held a finger to my lips. "Shhh, shhh Spock, don't bother answering, that was a rha, reh, rrrr, _rhetorical_ question. _I'm_ going to tell you what that means.

"It means my fourth point, Commander; it means that I'm going to kiss you."

He didn't move, didn't stop me, he just kept looking down at me.

I reached my fingers up and traced the lines of his face, his eyebrows, "Do you know how absolutely gorgeous you are?" I asked.

His eyebrows moved under my fingertips.

I slid my fingers to his ears, whispered, "Points are sexy," and then I kissed him.


	14. Step Six

And now we come to the end of this crazy fanfic. I want to thank miss steph for her mad betaing skills and RachelKarenGeller for the idea that became the seed of this fic.

And many thanks to _everyone_ who read, reviewed and favorited!

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Fourteen of Fifteen:** _Step Six_~

_**Step Six:**__ This is it, girl! All of your hard work has paid off and you've got your man. Enjoy him, enjoy each other. Have fun and don't forget: you're awesome and so is he!_

________________________________________________________________________

"Ouch," I said.

_Why is there so much sunlight? Why is the light coming from the wrong direction? Oh GOD! My head is hurting. Why is it hurting?_

I willed my eyes to open and I looked out the window opposite of my bed.

_Oh yeah. I'm in Oxford and there were Slusho Mixes and step four._

"Computer, what time is it?"

"It is 1041 hours, local standard time; message waiting from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."

"Belay message," I directed. I wasn't ready for talk – or songs – about green penises yet.

I stretched and flipped over.

Spock was sitting in a chair and staring at me.

I sat up and blinked hard.

Nope, he was still there.

"Good morning, Cadet Uhura. Are you in need of an analgesic?" he asked.

"My head's fine," I said truthfully. He was sitting in my room and everything was perfect.

_Dr. Flenderson you are a genius!_

There had been points and a question and a kiss….

_His hands had migrated to my waist and he had slanted his mouth over mine. He had _returned _the kiss. Then, just as quickly as he had started, he had stopped. He had lifted me and put me down an arm's length away. He even took several steps back. _

"_You are intoxicated," he said._

"_So?" I had asked, taking a step towards him. The room spun and I had toppled over. The bed broke my fall. _

"_Cadet?"_

"_I'm fine," I said, rolling onto my side and turning on the sexy. I had run my finger along the neckline of my dress. His breathing had changed and his eyes had followed my fingers._

"_You could join me, Commander."_

_His hands were behind his back, his shoulders rigid, his eyes snapped back to my face. "That would be unwise, Cadet."_

"_Or very, very wise."_

"_Nyota, your judgment is impaired. It would be best if you went to sleep."_

_I rolled my eyes which made the room rock around me. "I'm not tired." I patted the bed beside me. "Maybe you could help tire me out."_

"_Please do not continue to make offers that you will regret in the morning."_

_I had flipped my shoes off; they hit the floor with twin thuds. "I won't regret anything in the morning."_

"_Still, I will refuse any offers you make. If you wish, we will discuss this in the morning."_

_I had sat up and I was sure my head was going to fall off, but first I had to get him to agree to something, "Do you _promise_ we'll talk about this in the morning?"_

"_I promise."_

"_I will hold you to that."_

"_I do not doubt it, Nyota."_

_I had laid down and watched him sit in the chair. "You really are gorgeous."_

"_Go to sleep, Cadet."_

_And I had._

And he had stayed.

Sure he'd slept or meditated, or whatever it was that Vulcans did at night, in a chair, but the chair was in my hotel room.

He'd stayed.

_Step five down; step six here I come!_

"I believe we have an important matter to attend to," he said.

I took a deep breath and nodded, readying to commit this to memory. Gaila would want a full report; she'd be getting the edited version but I wanted to remember _everything_.

"Please proceed, Commander," I said, my heart pounding.

"Cadet Uhura, your behaviors have undergone an extraordinary change in the last eight days. I have given the matter a great deal of thought and, after eliminating," he paused, "an alternate explanation, I believe I have reached the most rational conclusion."

"And what did you conclude?" I asked, my voice breathy; Vulcan love talk wasn't very exciting, but his voice and eyes made everything sexy.

_Thank you, Dr. Flenderson. Thank you, Gaila. Thank you, Oxford and Slusho Mixes!_

"It is my understanding that Humans often react to stress with personality changes. I understand that you have been under extraordinary pressure while preparing for the Invitational. I believe that your behaviors last night, and your behaviors of the last eight days, are a direct result of the acute stress to which you have been exposed."

I blinked as I tried to process his statement.

_Even for a Vulcan that __doesn't__ sound like a proclamation of undying love and devotion; it doesn't even sound like a statement of transitory lust and longing._

I held up one finger. "Commander, do you think that I have been suffering from a form of stress-related psychosis?"

His eyes widened. "Even though your symptomology is not entirely consistent with such a diagnosis, it would appear that…."

"And you stayed here last night…this morning…you stayed because…?" I asked, not even caring that I had cut him off.

"Given your level of intoxication I decided that it would be best if I remained to supervise you."

"Okay," I said as humiliation filled me, blanching me; I struggled to breathe. I had thought he was getting it, understanding it; I had thought for an instant - or a hundred - that this insane plan was working.

He had just thought I was insane.

I could feel the tears springing to my eyes.

_He won't be catching them on his finger this time. He'll never touch me again. _

Dr. Flenderson had never met a Vulcan, had never met a man that was so emotionally withdrawn that wresting out the least indication of what he was really thinking was an impossible feat.

She was wrong; there was no way I was getting this man – no matter how many steps I took.

"Cadet?" his tone was hesitant, as if he were concerned that he was going to trigger another series of irrational behaviors.

A little bit of fire entered my heart at his tone; I might not get the man I wanted, but I wasn't going to let him think I had lost my mind.

"Commander," I began, starting to gather up the shreds of pride that fluttered around my soul, "I am not having a nervous breakdown and my recent behaviors are not, in any way, a reaction to the stress of preparing for this event. I am more than capable of managing the numerous demands on my time without losing touch with reality or my sense of self. I appreciate your concern, but it is entirely unfounded."

His eyebrows drew together, "I do not understand. You came to study sessions dressed in a revealing fashion, engaged me in conversations not related to our work, you became intoxicated on alcohol," he paused for a moment, "and you touched me in a romantic manner."

He looked at me, his eyes roaming over my face; he was searching for the truth, for the real explanation of why I had seemingly become an entirely different person. "What other explanation is there?"

I wanted to lie, I wanted to scream. I wanted my money back. But I'd come this far and I'd rather he knew I was crazy about him then think I was just crazy.

I owed it to Dr. Flenderson and Gaila and me. And him.

"Spock," I began - his eyebrow shot up at my use of his name without his title, but he did not correct me – "You and I have spent a great deal of time together over the last two years. With the end of this competition, we won't be seeing each other. You aren't my teacher anymore, and most likely won't be in the future; you aren't my tutor anymore and won't be again. I've enjoyed our time together and….."

_Give me strength, Dr. Flenderson._

"I wanted you to see me as something more than just a student. I wanted to be more to you than just a xenolinguistic prodigy."

His eyes widened and his breath caught; he stood swiftly and walked to the window. He stood with his back to me, his fingers interlaced behind himself in his usual stance. After thirty seconds of thick silence, he started speaking, his back still to me. "I must admit that I had considered such an explanation; however, after careful consideration of all of the relevant data, I dismissed my theory as an unlikely interpretation of your conduct."

"I assure you, Sir," I began, pulling the shreds around me like armor – his shoulders went up a fraction of a centimeter, almost like my voice upset him – "that I realize I have made a mistake."

Me and Gaila and Dr. Flenderson.

I drew in a shaky breath, "I wish to take this opportunity to apologize for subjecting you to my misguided and unwelcome attentions."

At that, he spun towards me, as precise, as formal as always; his eyes, however, were heated, his voice low, "Misguided? Unwelcome?"

I bobbed my head in confirmation before the question, his voice, and his eyes all filtered through the haze of misery and humiliation.

I looked at him more closely.

He was staring at me in a completely foreign way and it was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. His eyes were hot and glittering. His hands were at his sides, his fingers open, palms facing towards me.

_Oh._

_Oh!_

Then it all clicked into place and became very clear.

I had just knocked his socks off.

"Were my attentions misguided or unwelcome?" I asked. My legs were like jelly, my heart was racing.

"They were neither, Nyota."

The fire of Dr. Flenderson entered my soul. I got out of bed and walked toward him, not slowing until I was standing toe-to-toe with him; Gaila and Dr. Flenderson stood beside me in spirit.

I laid my hands on his face and gazed into his extraordinary eyes; I saw warmth there. That, in the end, was what made me strong enough to tell him the rest of the truth.

"I want to be very clear, Spock." I said, my fingers stroking his warm skin gently, "I am in love with you."

His hands came up to cover mine. "Your affections are returned, Nyota."

_Close enough._

I went on tip-toe, guiding my mouth towards his.

"Nyota…."

"Shhh, Spock. I just want to enjoy you."

His eyes heated in the brief second I could see them; in the next second, he had brought his lips to mine.


	15. The Next Step

**Disclaimers and warnings in Part One.**

~**Part Fifteen of Fifteen_:_**_ The Next Step_~

"Wow."

"Ten."

"Wow."

"Eleven."

"That's getting really annoying," I said, squeezing the hot hand of the sweaty Vulcan lying next to me.

"I am merely pointing out that you have said the same word eleven times."

I glanced over at him and was inordinately pleased to see that his chest was still heaving.

"You could say it, too," I pointed out.

"That was a most satisfying experience."

"You say the sweetest things," I said, not even close to meaning it; but not caring, either.

"I merely cited the truth; that you found the statement 'sweet' is a welcome, if unintended, outcome."

"I was being sarcastic," I pointed out, wondering how he was able to make anything he said sound so sexy.

"I recognized the tone," he replied, squeezing my hand.

I tried to figure out if I had regained enough strength to roll over and kiss him.

_Not yet._

I settled for bringing his hand to my lips.

I sighed, staring blissfully at him; he stared back. I enjoyed the not-actual-silence of the room; I could hear his heart and his breath, both still a little faster than normal.

The computer chirped, destroying the peace; "Incoming message from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."

"Denied," Spock said instantly.

It was 0600 hours in San Francisco; Gaila wouldn't give up that easily.

Gaila.

Starfleet Academy.

The Idiot Squad.

There were people outside of this room, this bed, that wanted to talk to us.

There were four people in this hotel that were going to be looking for us very soon.

"Spock," I said, trying to disengage my hand from his and get to clothes, a communications device, anything.

His grip tightened. "I can think of nothing at this moment that is reason enough to induce me to release your hand."

"Would the fact that my teammates, your _students_, are going to be pounding on my door any second now be reason enough?" I wrenched my hand free and rolled towards the edge of the bed.

Arms like iron grabbed my waist and spun me up, around and onto a naked, sweaty, glorious body.

I blinked stupidly down into his face, dazed by the rapidity of his movements, the strength behind the ease with which he had maneuvered me and the desire behind all of it.

He cleared the hair from my face, "Nyota, I communicated with the remainder of your classmates while you, I believe the colloquialism is, 'slept it off;' they plan on spending the day recovering from the excesses of last night." His lips twitched and his hands began to dance along my spine. "I am obligated to note that none of them imbibed quite as _excessively_ as you did."

He continued, "I told them that you were in need of rest and recuperation and were not to be disturbed. I further informed them that I would be in meditation all day. We are to meet them for dinner at 1800 hours. Neither of us will be missed."

His hands stopped moving. "If you wish to leave this bed, I will not stop you; I, however, have no such desire."

I captured the tip of his ear in my teeth and was gratified by the immediate change in his breathing. As I released the delectable bit of skin, I whispered, "I have no desire to leave this bed, either."

His fingers started sliding over my skin again as I pushed my face back from his. "You lied to your students?"

His eyebrows drew together. "No. When I spoke to them I believed you were in need of a period of uninterrupted rest as I had concluded that you were suffering from an acute stress reaction."

"And you were going to meditate because meditation is the most _fun _thing you can do," I said, dipping my head so I could lick his clavicle.

"I can think of many activities that are more _fun_ than meditation." He made fun sound like a bad word.

"I realize saying fun is hard for you," I said, abandoning his clavicle so I could kiss his neck. "I will reward you for that later."

He pulled my head up and kissed me deeply. After several heady minutes, he released me and I met his smoldering gaze.

"So you're sure they really won't miss us? They're not going to come looking for me?" I asked.

"They have no reason to. I believe I was promised recompense for using the word fun?"

I smiled, and nibbled his neck and was rewarded by a sharp breath and an entirely delicious moan.

"Incoming message from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."

"Denied," we said in unison.

I removed my lips from his neck so I could smile down into his face; it was gentle and tender. I allowed myself the pleasure of getting lost in his eyes.

"I found your non-regulation clothing to be quite stimulating," he murmured, playing with a piece of my hair.

"I'll make sure to dress similarly in the future."

"Perhaps when it is just you and I."

_Oooh, jealous Vulcan._

"Only if you play more of your songs for me," I countered.

His fingers had found my earlobes. "I am amendable to such an agreement."

"Incoming message from Starfleet Academy: Gaila, Cadet."

"Denied and disable all incoming message alerts," he said.

"You do take care of everything," I said, as his fingers began to trace the whorls of my ears.

"I endeavor to do so."

I wiggled against him and nibbled on his jaw; his fingers plowed into my hair, pulling my lips and teeth closer to his skin.

"Are you going to enjoy me again, Nyota?" he asked, his voice sending shivers of arousal through me. I had never dreamed that his voice could be so full of desire and need.

I could feel his body hardening, his hands tightening.

_All signs point to yes_.

I picked my head up so I could look at him; his eyes were hot, melting chocolate brown.

"Spock, I plan on enjoying you for a very long time," I said, my fingers beginning to drift down his intoxicating body.

He growled a little, a noise that had shocked me the first time, but that had quickly become very familiar. "I look forward to that."

_Dr. Flenderson, you were a _genius_!_

**~~The story continues in _What Would Doctor Flenderson Do?_~~**


End file.
